Freda and Max were having a holiday in a lovely country town. Every day they went for a walk, sometimes climbing hills, and at other times going down by the river.

One morning Uncle Jim said,—

"Let us all go down to Hope's Farm and see the farmer, and I may just fish a little in the river before coming home."

"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Freda and Max together. "I should love to see you catch a fish."

So off they went. There were Freda and Max, Uncle Jim, and father and mother—quite a jolly party.

It was a lovely morning, and the banks at the sides of the road were clad with all kinds of flowers. Freda and Max gathered big bunches, and Don, the sheep-dog, kept poking his nose into every rabbit hole he came to. Sometimes he got so far down the hole that only his hind legs were sticking out.

Don was very anxious to catch a rabbit, and sometimes he sat outside poor bunny's house for quite a long time, with his ears pricked up and his head on one side, listening. He did catch a rabbit once, but I will tell you about that some other time.

Well, after Freda and Max and all the others had walked for some miles, they came to the farm. It stood at the foot of a high hill, and quite near to the river.

Max said how jolly it would be to jump out of bed in the mornings and fish for trout for breakfast.

Uncle Jim saw the farmer, who gave each of them a glass of milk to drink. It was fresh from the cow and still warm. They all sat down on the grass before the house to drink it.

The sun was shining, and the birds were singing, and Freda said it would be lovely to sit there for ever and ever.

Max said he did not think so. He wanted to go fishing some day like Uncle Jim.

But Freda said, "Of course, Max is only a boy."

I am afraid these two children would have begun to quarrel there and then, had not Uncle Jim cried out,—

"Look! look! there are some trout jumping out of the water."

And it was quite true. The river was sparkling in the sunshine, and the trout were leaping out of it high into the air to catch the flies for food.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the whole world had stopped moving. The birds ceased their singing, and all was silent.

They all sat and looked, and presently, away at the other side of the broad river, near the edge of the wood, a rabbit came hopping along as though in great pain. They all watched until it disappeared into the wood.

"What is the matter with the poor rabbit?" said Max.

"Hush!" said Uncle Jim. "See what is coming now."

And there, creeping along swiftly and silently, in the very track of the poor rabbit, was a large weasel.

They all watched it with bated breath.

Nearer and nearer the weasel got to the place where the rabbit had fled, and presently it, too, went out of sight.

"Oh! I do hope poor bunny is safe now," cried Freda.

But alas, just then a loud scream rang through the wood, and they knew then that at last the weasel had caught the rabbit.

Uncle Jim then waded across the river, and went into the wood to see if he could find the weasel, but he came back without being able to do so.

"But how could a small weasel kill a large rabbit?" asked Max.

"Well, you see," said Uncle Jim, "when a weasel hunts a rabbit, the rabbit is so much afraid that it loses all its strength, so that it is unable to run fast and get to a place of safety."

"Then the weasel very soon catches the rabbit and kills it."

"I hate weasels," said Freda.

"So do I," said Max.

"Oh, well, you see," said Uncle Jim, "the weasel must get food; and I know some little people who are very fond of rabbit pie."